


The Hendrix Riff

by yuletide_archivist



Category: The Mentalist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-25
Updated: 2008-12-25
Packaged: 2018-01-25 02:19:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1626386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuletide_archivist/pseuds/yuletide_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Patrick Jane, in a happier time, making castles in the sand that will melt into the sea, eventually.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Hendrix Riff

**Author's Note:**

> Written for sprl1199

 

 

They had been out all week, and a storm was coming in that was going to cut their vacation short. A hurricane, more precisely, because nothing short of one could interrupt the Janes' family holiday. When he'd been a child they had had it at Newport News; now that he had his own family they went to Hilton Head Island, rented a house, and stayed for an entire fortnight. Away from the crowds, the masks, and the magic shows. Away from Patrick Jane, psychic and spiritualist, and leaving only Patrick Jane, husband. And later, father. 

"Daddy!" 

There they were, his ladies. His beautiful ladies. "There's my girls!" Patrick spread his arms wide and his four year old blonde bombshell came tumbling into them. Armful of girl, blonde curls bouncing everywhere, and squirming limbs. He looked over at his wife and smiled. True happiness, he had come to realize, was a very simple thing.

"We found a starfish," she said with a smile, offering it out from the tips of her fingers. He would have reached to grab it, but, full arms. "She carried it half-way."

"And we found a sand dollar and a crab and a big old sand snake and a dead fish." She made a face. "Yuch."

"Yuch, indeed." Dead fish? his expression asked.

Be sensible, hers said in reply. Of course we didn't go near it. Her lips, instead, spoke of nicer matters. "You've been busy."

He looked over his shoulder at the sand palace he'd managed to sculpt. "A princess needs her palace." The princess got kissed on the forehead as she squirmed away, going to walk around the castle that her father had made for her. Hands carefully behind her back, one hand clasped around the other wrist, as they'd taught her. 

It also freed him to take his other lady by the waist, tugging her into his arms and greeting her with a kiss that was most certainly not on the forehead.

"And what did you find on the beach today?" she murmured.

"Well..." Brushing a strand of hair out of her face. "A beautiful mermaid, the daughter of the sea king, she told me, came up on the shore as I was building this." One hand gestured back at the sand palace.

She laughed. "The daughter of a sea king?"

"Well, that's what she said. And she offered me sunken gold treasure, pearls, all the treasure of the sea, if I would come with her and be her prince."

"But I don't see a mermaid."

"Well, I told her I already had all the treasure in the world, land or sea."

"Oh... of course."

She didn't believe him, as well she shouldn't. There were no such things as mermaids. But she believed him about the parts that mattered, and he had meant every word. And she still laughed, snuggling into his arms while their daughterÂ  danced around the creation he'd made for her and proclaimed it the bestest palace in the world. 

"It'll wash away tomorrow, you know," she told him later, glancing over as the sun was setting and they were starting to think about going in. "The rain..."

"That's all right," he shrugged. "I'll build another one tomorrow."

 


End file.
